“Yell all you like, little mate,” he interrupted, settling back against the couch with infuriating calm. “I’ll still carry you home.”
Something in me snapped. The casual certainty in his voice, the way he’d already decided our future…it was too much. All too much.
I grabbed the nearest object, which was a decorative pillow embroidered with unity symbols, and hurled it at his face with all my strength.
Rakthar caught it one-handed, an inch from his nose. His lips pulled back in a tusked grin, and then he did something I wasn’t prepared for.
He laughed. A full-throated, genuine laugh that filled the room and vibrated through my chest.
“There she is,” he said, his eyes glinting with what looked suspiciously like delight. “The fire I sensed from the moment I saw your image.”
“Stop talking about me like I’m somethingyou acquired and not a living sentient being in front of you!” I grabbed another pillow, but this time he moved faster than something his size should be able to, suddenly on his feet and towering over me.
His hand engulfed mine before I could throw the second pillow, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the rough calluses that scraped against my skin. “Not a thing,” he said, voice low. “A mate. An equal partner.”
I tried to pull away, but his grip was firm without being painful. “Equal partners don’t claim each other through combat.”
“In my world, they do.” He released my hand but didn’t step back. “Strength matters, Aliana. Not just the strength of arm, but the strength of will. Urran wanted a docile human to warm his bed and tend his crops. I want a mate who will challenge me, fight with me, rule beside me.”
His words sent an unwanted thrill through me. I’d prepared myself for a life of quiet domesticity with Urran. Resigned myself to it, matter of fact.
The possibility of something more, something that recognized the fire in me rather than trying to extinguish it, was disorienting.
“You can’t just decide that,” I said, but my voice lacked its earlier conviction.
“I already have.” His massive hand moved toward my face, hesitating just shy of touching my cheek. “And somewhere beneath that anger, you’re intrigued. I can smell it on you.”
Heat rushed to my face. Damn these non-humans and their enhanced senses. “That’s—that’s an invasion of privacy.”
Rakthar chuckled, a deep rumble that I felt rather than heard. “Should I apologize for noticing how your pulse quickens when I’m near? For sensing the heat that rises to your skin?”
His hand finally made contact, one rough finger tracing a line from my temple to my jaw. “Your body speaks truths your mouth denies.”
I jerked away from his touch, not because it was unpleasant, but because it wasn’t. “My body doesn’t decide for me.”
“No?” He stepped back, giving me space, though his presence still filled the room. “Then what does, little Aliana? The Sanctuary system that would have paired you with a male who couldn’t even fight for you? The algorithm that knows nothing of passion or power? That likely responded to what you told it you wanted, rather than what you actually wanted.”
His verdict sent a chill down my spine. Damn, I had no good answer for that. The truth was, I’d surrendered my choices the moment I signed up for the Monster Matrimony program.Answered whatever the hell I needed to in order to get myself safest, quickest.
In a world where unprotected humans were vulnerable prey, safety meant sacrifice—or so I’d thought.
He threw the second pillow back to me. Just tossed it lightly. I caught it by reflex.
“Sixty-eight hours,” he said. “That is what the Sanctuary gives you. Use them.”
I stared at him. “Are you telling me to take my time?”
“I am telling you to choose.” He held my gaze, and the smug certainty from before was gone—replaced by something stripped-down and direct. “Eyes open. Not because of a clock or a system that leaves you no other option.” He picked up his goblet again, the gesture almost casual, but his eyes stayed on mine. “I want you to look at me and decide. Whatever you decide.”
It was the last thing I’d expected him to say.
“And if I decide no?” I asked carefully.
His expression didn’t flicker. “Then I will honor it.”
I turned that over in my mind, testing its weight. I didn’t quite believe him—this was a male who had beaten another orc unconscious to stand in this room—but there was something in the way he said it that didn’t feel performative. Just factual. Uncomfortable. Inconvenient.
“Sixty-eight hours is not very long,” I said finally.
